“Right. Like, what’s he trying to prove? Is my armor prime?”
He turns. It’s shockingly only scratched. I look at the dent on mine. That’s not fair. Then I remember the civilians he risked our mission for.
I head into the hold of the transport, expecting the worst. The dim interior is filled with cages. The captives meant for gods know what are not dead from the crash. They cough behind filthy nanoplast barriers, huddled together in fear, droopy and sedate from the shabbiness of the cage’s oxygen filters. Several of the Pinks have broken their legs or arms in the landing. They cry in the arms of Green architects. I feel sick at thesight until I realize they are not crying in horror. They are crying in relief. I didn’t help Cassius to save them. I helped Cassius because I didn’t want him to die. And he would have died, for strangers. A font of respect and love for the man grows in me. Sevro called him shallow. He is not. Not by a longshot. He sways a little at my side.“Yes. Certainly concussed. But nota bad bill for a good deed.”
“Not a bad bill,” I admit. “Not a bad bill at all.”
“What you said to Diomedes…”I turn, already wondering how we’ll evacuate the civilians. His helmet is close to mine. He was listening, then.“What was all that?”
“Just a theory.”
Then the waste rumbles behind us, and I turn to see our actual bill.
55
DARROW
Demigod
Four dark triangles racetoward us over the volcanic plain. They are Republic assault dropships painted with the ancient Obsidian runes of the Allfather. Before I can hail theArchimedesthe jamming arrays that jut from their bloated underbellies like stingers cause our long-range coms to die with an insectoid screech.
“Oh, Jove.That’s not good.”Cassius’s voice is filled with static.
“I did tell you they wouldn’t be alone,” I reply. This is not what was supposed to happen today, so of course it happened. I actually laugh. Maybe it needed to happen for me to realize I can’t keep running. I have to take a stand somewhere. Like Cassius with Sevro. Am I so afraid of my own braves, and the guilt they make me feel?
When the attack ships are the size of thumbnails, Obsidian aerial cavalry deploy out of their bellies.“So what is it then? Fifty for each of us?”Cassius asks.
“Looks like.”
“And they’ll be just as good as the ones we just fought?”
“Better. See the dropper with the golden ram banner? That’s Jarl Skarde’s.”
“Jarl Skarde? Who is he?”
“One bad son of a bitch,” I reply. “We do not want to fight him.”
“Right. Do we have that choice?”
“You did. We don’t.”
“Right. Where theHades is theArchimedes?”Cassius asks.
“Picking up the others soon as they’re done with the omega torch.Then coming to us,” I say. “If it didn’t run into its own trouble. With Lyria at the stick—”
“She can get it here. But she’ll be too late,”Cassius says and glances back to the hold. The civilians may not be able to see the Obsidians, but they can hear the war drum beat blasting from the ships.
“I’m not leaving so let’s not bicker at the last. You can escape into the volcanoes, lose them in the spews.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Mars needs you. Your boy—”
“If Pax grows up to be as stupid as you, I’ll be a proud father. I’m not leaving you.”
“Really?”He sounds incredibly touched.“You’d really die here with me?I just…well…I thought that was your and Sevro’s thing. Thank you, Darrow.”
He must have gotten hit in the head harder than I thought. “We’re not going to die. I have a plan.”
